No Man
by lilkyonkyon
Summary: When he brought Cedric's prone body back, no one could pretend anymore. Fourth year. Ten drabbles and a one-shot. Inspired by John Donne. Rated for language and adult themes. ::Ten to One Challenge::
1. Needing and Getting

This story comes from the Ten to One challenge by Lost in the Lies. I gave her a HP era, and she gave me ten characters and eleven prompts. Each character has his or her own prompt, and for the last prompt, I had to write a chapter that involved all of them. What I decided to do was write ten drabbles from the POV of each character. Then, for the final chapter, there is a full-sized one-shot.

Thanks to Lost in the Lies for the perfect starting point! This chapter had the prompt want and the title comes from the song "Needing/Getting" by OkGo.

* * *

**No Man**

**Cedric Diggory**

**Needing and Getting**

No one ever thinks that it can happen to them.

"_Avada Kedavra_!"

But when I hear those words, and I turn just in time to see that flash of green… well, it strikes me. Literally and figuratively.

No one is too young to die.

The Killing Curse is instantaneous, but no one will ever tell you what it _feels_ like. Imagine bark being torn from a tree, with that sickening, wet rip. That's the last sound I hear—and I know it's the sound of my soul being torn from my body.

My last thought is _I want to live_—


	2. Blue

And so chapter two. The song is "Blue" played by the Seatbelts and featuring Mai Yamane. The prompt is "clear sky".

**No Man**

**Hannah Abbott**

**Blue**

I can't quite see the field, but by the sudden eruption of cheers for Harry, I'm assuming that he's won. It's so hard to see through the thick mob of people. I settle for just looking up, up at the clear sky while the roaring continues.

I'm still watching as the crowd steadily grows silent—and then I hear one lone voice, broken, "He's back! He's back!"

Murmurs begin immediately, and I hear his name, _Cederic's dead_… and I remember when he helped me find Charms in first year….

Right then, it feels like the night will swallow me whole.


	3. Tiny Vessels

This chapter's prompt was small. I titled it after the Death Cab for Cutie song "Tiny Vessels".

**No Man**

**Fillius Flitwick**

**Tiny Vessels**

"He's back! Voldemort's back!"

I don't quite comprehend Mister Potter's sobs. No one does. In fact, it seems that everyone, every witch and wizard in the whole stadium, is holding his or her breath.

Waiting.

In his grasp, Mister Diggory, limp-boned and pale, seems to hold it as well. His skin is translucent; underneath, I can see every tiny blue vessel flickering.

No.

Not flickering.

Mister Potter's words are as strong as a curse, and now I cannot draw a breath even if I wanted to. And never, in all of my days, have I felt so ineffectual, so _small_.


	4. Don't Forget to Breathe

Luna's POV. The prompt on this chapter was ignore. The song "Don't Forget to Breathe" is performed by Frou Frou.

**No Man**

**Luna Lovegood**

**Don't Forget to Breathe**

At once, the spectators surge into panic.

I am not one of them. Cedric Diggory is not dead. Harry (oh Merlin, _Harry_) is not sobbing, he is not clinging to the lifeless body of a boy who was barely old enough to Apparate—

Squeezing my eyes shut, I clutch my robes tighter to my chest. Breathe. _Breathe_. Ignore all of this.

Whatever you do, don't think of Mum—_don't_—

No one is staring at me when the tears come spilling out. There's too much happening on the field. Because this means there is no more pretending.

(He is _not dead_.)


	5. Scars

"Scars" is sung by X Japan, and is also the prompt for this chapter.

**No Man**

**Remus Lupin**

**Scars**

It all seems so strange. I was sitting down to a late dinner after another exhausting search for Peter—no, not Peter. _Pettigrew_. Well, I suppose it doesn't matter what I call him. His actions have left scars on more than just Harry.

Wearily, I sigh. I know that I'll never find him alone.

But as I tuck in, a silvery cat bursts in through my window. A Patronus.

"He is back," Minerva says simply. Then it vanishes.

For a moment, a wild moment, I cannot believe its words. Then I drop my head into my hands.

Dinner remains untouched.


	6. The Reaper

The prompt was fear, and the title comes from Blue Oyster Cult's "Don't Fear the Reaper".

* * *

**No Man**

**Blaise Zabini**

**The Reaper**

I was so happy to get this bloody spot earlier. Right in the front row, me and the other Slytherin boys. Not that I should care what they think of me, right? Mum always loved us being so very detached from everything else.

But there's a body not ten paces from me, and Potter's wailing words that chill me right down to my core. Voldemort—alive. I can't sodding fathom where that leaves me. What that means for Mum and I.

But I can't show this swelling terror. I can't even tremble. Not if I want to make Mum proud.


	7. Ruled by Secrecy

Song: "Ruled By Secrecy" by Muse. Prompt: Secrets.

**No Man**

**Severus Snape**

**Ruled By Secrecy**

I cannot bear it anymore. Potter's shouts have become garbled with emotion, and he clutches ineffectually at Mister Diggory's pristine robes.

That something terrible would happen during this tournament was inevitable—but _this_ is unfathomable. Hadn't I informed Dumbledore that this would come about? Hadn't I warned him?

By myself, I can do nothing. The secrets I carry far outweigh the consequences of my inaction. At least, I have been told as much. Yet as I gaze at the prone corpse of a child, I cannot convince myself that this is true.

Nevertheless, I have a job I must do.


	8. Sucker Punch

****The prompt is hit, and the song is "Sucker Punch" by OneRepublic.

* * *

**No Man**

**Katie Bell**

**Sucker Punch**

Oh Merlin. The body… the body Harry has… oh, Merlin.

He had only spoken to me a few times. Once, when we were playing a match, and he had swooped in to interfere with my shot on goal. Kicking it away. When he turned, we collided—brooms and limbs tangling in the confusion. The Quaffle was moving towards Gryffindor's goal, but by the time we had managed to separate our brooms, Hufflepuff had scored.

And he had apologized.

Someone drags Harry away, and I get a full view of Cedric Diggory's corpse. I had always wanted to know him better.


	9. Dazed and Confused

****The prompt is confusion, and the song is from Led Zeppelin.

* * *

**No Man**

**Draco Malfoy**

**Dazed and Confused**

Potter must be lying, he _must_! He never could stand being on the side-lines. Speaking of which, where has that wanker gone? It doesn't matter. Diggory couldn't have been killed by the Dark Lord. The Dark Lord fights for pure-bloods, and _Diggory's_ a pure-blood. A sodding pure-blood. I refuse to believe that the Dark Lord would kill him.

The body is just in front of me. I can see that the eyes are still open, gazing at the emptying sky. I stare at the corpse and will myself to be impartial.

There must have been a good reason. There must.


	10. Have We Lost

****The prompt here is loss (I think? I can't remember...) and the song is "Have We Lost" by Flyleaf.

**No Man**

**Cho Chang**

**Have We Lost**

I don't remember when I started running, but I'm suddenly where Harry had been, twining my fingers through Cedric's robes. Why isn't he warm? Why won't he turn to look at me?

"Cedric! Cedric!" When I shake his body, my tears spill over. He never could stand to see me cry. He was so kind—_is_ so kind—oh Merlin….

He's gone.

And I can't fathom this heartbeat of mine. How can it beat alone, having lost everything it had before? Overwhelmed, I drop my head onto his chest and let my sobs escape.

Will I ever be the same?


	11. No Man

Prompt for this chapter is Hurt.

* * *

**No Man**

Everything about the day was typical. Above Hogwarts, the sky was a dark overcast, heavy with rain. It reflected morosely off of the murky lake. Even the grass and trees seemed dull. They had arrived one by one, sad and sombre, dressed in blacks and worn house colours. Cedric's casket lay ready beside the grave, the only object pristinely white on that grey day. His countenance no longer appeared bewildered, or terrified. His eyes had been closed, and his mouth had been transformed into a wan smile. He was the only one to seem remotely happy.

Hannah never understood why morticians did that. Made the dead smile. As if they were pleased with the way their lives had turned out. Maybe some were, if they'd led long, happy ones. But Cedric? Was he happy that he had been killed at the age of seventeen?

She doubted it.

In her hands, she clutched a small scrap of parchment. It was for the casket. She didn't know what had gotten into her, but she wrote him a note, thanking him for his help all those years ago. If only she'd said it sooner.

Hannah absently looked off towards the knot of teachers speaking in slow, solemn whispers with Mister Diggory. If it weren't for her own inexplicable sorrow, she would have wondered how these teachers had all come to be so affected by the death of one student. How could one death hurt so many? When Professor Flitwick met her watering eyes, she turned away.

He watched the students impassively, taking in their drawn faces and worn eyes. They looked as he felt—helpless, and scared. Mister Diggory's death was not simply an accident, and though he did not want it to be true, he knew that Mister Potter's words — the Boy-Who-Lived's words — held weight.

The Dark Lord was back.

Filius remembered those days too well — days when he only felt safe within the confines of Hogwarts, days when children went home for summer break and didn't come back. He'd fought, they'd all fought, but mostly he remembered being terrified that he wouldn't survive the week. That was war.

"Remus," he greeted his old co-worker sombrely. "I'm glad to see you, but sorry that it had to be in this way."

"I'm sorry too. The boy… it's a shame to lose him so young."

"He was a good lad, yes."

"There are his parents. Excuse me."

Filius watched the former professor drift towards the couple, who wore drawn faces. Maybe Mister Diggory's death would bring some attention to the cause, his mind floundered. Maybe he could serve a purpose.

The idea made him sick.

He tore his eyes away from the parents, self-conscious about his pattern of thoughts. This was a young boy, a child… Mister Potter had already been shouldered with too much responsibility. How could he shift his burden to a memory?

Hastily, Filius excused himself from the group and left. He couldn't be a part of the service anymore. The professor was too preoccupied to feel the eyes on him as he strode towards the castle.

Luna watched him go impassively. She was seated away from the other attendees, alone.

She hadn't slept since the maze. Not a wink. She hadn't bothered covering the bruises under her eyes, either; she was quite confident that no one would notice them. Everyone was wrapped up in their own feelings. Not that it mattered what anyone did and said now. Not to Cedric.

He was dead, after all.

She glanced around at all of the others, each and every one of them carrying a weight of emotions. Grief. Remorse. Pain. Desperation. Every mourner, however, was bound with one feeling: fear. Fear of what had happened. Of what was coming.

Luna didn't want to be afraid, but she was. She believed Harry with her whole heart, of course she did. But she was one of few. There were those that disregarded him, who scoffed and laughed. _Ironic_, thought Luna without emotion. They must have been the most terrified of all. Deep down, they knew. Everyone knew, but no one would see….

She grew distracted when she saw a familiar face pass by.

He had been afraid that he would be late, but there wasn't much activity there. Remus slowed his footsteps as he neared, lingering long enough to gaze at the boy in the casket. _A child, still_, he mourned, _barely old enough to understand what his death means to the entire Wizarding World_.

"Your son was one-of-a-kind," he told the parents, sincerely. "I'm sorry for your loss."

As much as he would have liked to stay for the whole service, however, Remus knew that a storm was coming swifter than anyone there dared to think. They were too frightened to understand what lay right in front of them — a young man in a casket. Another war.

He turned to go, brushing past students and teachers alike.

Severus was one of them, though he wouldn't have greeted Remus pleasantly if it were part of his job. Grimly, the potions professor surveyed the other attendees, all pale and shivering in the afternoon rain. In the distance, Malfoy stood with his nose turned in the air, other Slytherin boys flanking his sides. Severus inwardly cringed. As much as he helped the students in his house, he saw their lives turning into his own, and he was powerless to stop it.

"There you are, Severus. I didn't see you in the crowd."

He greeted Dumbledore lowly, arms crossed over his chest to keep himself warm. The silence between them spoke of all the worry and guilt he carried, and when the Headmaster placed a hand on his shoulder, he thought that he would collapse under the weight. "This charade has gone on long enough," he begged at once. "The war has to end soon. It must."

The man nodded, wearily. Snape recognized his frailty and age, something he never thought he'd see from his mentor. "You have always been too hasty, Severus. I cannot end it. Only Mister Potter can."

He ducked his head to hide the annoyed twist to his mouth. Even after Diggory's death, Potter was still the centre of attention. Typical. Dumbledore always looked at the big picture, but all Snape could see was Cedric Diggory's mother fighting back her tears.

Draco was doing his best to maintain his casual stance. It would do him no good to show everyone how panicked he felt. Instead, he did what he knew best. He jested. Someone's hair was hideous from the rain. Come on, which one do you think will start crying first? Find all the Weasleys. He couldn't stop these words any more than he could stop the rain. Honestly, he didn't hate Diggory, or anything about the boy. He just wanted to feel anything but the anger and hurt that threatened to overwhelm him.

Then he set his eyes on Diggory's girl.

"Blimey, I've never seen a girl that red from crying," he chortled. "Hope it doesn't stay that way, huh, mates?" Crabbe and Goyle laughed, but Zabini was eerily silent. "You see her, Zabini?"

"Yeah, I see her. Why are you laughing?"

He might as well have slapped Malfoy across the face. "Look at her," the blond sneered suddenly, pointing out the Ravenclaw with an accusing hand. "She's blubbering like a child. You don't think it's funny?"

Blaise was nearly grinding his teeth with fury. So many people here were hurting. The boy's bloody parents were not ten yards away, and Draco bloody Malfoy was taunting a crying girl. "A student was murdered," he finally stated, as coolly as possible. "No, I don't think it's very funny. And if you do, then don't talk to me anymore." Before the blond could find any further argument, Blaise stormed away, right past the girls. He was done pretending to be one of them.

_What's wrong with him?_ Katie thought as she watched him rush by. _He looks pissed._ Whatever it was, it wasn't really her concern. Today was already too much for her to handle.

"Cho, are you ready to see him yet?" She rubbed her hand comfortingly across the girl's back, but she didn't respond to the words. It was still too early, she supposed. Although… if it were her, would she be able to say goodbye? Nothing would hurt more. Katie felt selfishly lucky. She hardly knew Cedric. He was just the boy that she'd run into on the pitch a few times, that was all.

But Cho….

"Come on," she said, helping the girl to her feet, "we'll do it together."

Cho seized her arm with a quaking hand and let herself be led to the coffin. A few hands patted her on the back — students, teachers, and some that she couldn't see through her tears. Before her, she saw swarms of colours, all of the flowers that people had sent.

Then, finally, she saw him. He was so beautiful… still, so beautiful…. With a quaking hand, she reached for his cheek. Cold. She brushed the pad of her thumb just under his eye, ignoring the tears that slid from her eyes as they mingled with the rain. This was the last time she would ever see him.

"Cedric," she whispered.

Then she choked out one last goodbye.

* * *

Again, inspired by John Donne's little speech "No man is an island…." Thanks again to Lost in the Lies for the challenge, prompts AND characters (gosh, practically written for me, huh?). You can listen to all the songs that I titled the chapters after by clicking on the link on my profile page.

Finally, as always, please review!


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